A Smile Smudged With Tears
by sayjay1995
Summary: "He eyed the line of tears that mirrored the green streaks that stained his own cheeks". Ulquiorra walks in on a sleeping Orihime to find her face splashed in tears. How can the cheerful girl manage such sorrow; is it... because of him? Light UlquiHime fluff.


**A/N: Gotta love staying up late every weekend, at my Dad's house, watching anime with my sister (this is huge; we usually hate each other). Anyway, Adult Swim has finally been showing GOOD episodes of Bleach (AKA episodes involving the oh so very sexy Ulquiorra) and, as always, inspires wonderful ideas for my favorite pairing! Just some light fluff this time, but I hope it is enjoyed none-the-less!**

**Disclaimer: AS, Bleach, the works- none of it is mine.**

**A Smile Smudged With Tears**

The emerald green of his eyes betrayed the blank expression on his paled face; Ulquiorra shut them and turned away, disgusted with himself. It had been a long standing habit to mold his features into an apathetic mask; that particular skill was one he had perfected.

Almost.

It was his eyes that gave him away every time he set them upon the rounded cheeks of that blissful woman. She would smile back at him, _an Espada_, her captor no less, as if his very presence had brought her some kind of joy. The broad uplifting of her lips repulsed him; the Cuatro Espada was not a source of exhilaration. He reigned over the isolation of death, preferred the quiet comfort of having no one at his side. The harder he fought to keep away from Orihime Inoue, the closer he was drawn.

She had cracked his uncaring gaze, and seemed to be aware of it; whenever they were together, she would bore her eyes into his, searching the depths for the words he refused to speak. Their days together had become monotonous; three times a day he sat with her to ensure she ate her food. He would sit quietly and simply observe her while she chattered, answering her unlimited questions with mocked boredom, though the emptiness in his eyes would be replaced with a burning curiosity; what was it about this woman that so painfully intrigued him? He would ponder this until he decided to depart the chambers, though her smile followed him out, burned forever into his thoughts. Humans truly were vile creatures.

Their routine went smoothly, day to day; he took some comfort in the repetition. Her unprecedented joy may have shaken his very existence, but having control over her schedule helped him regain some sense of normality. That is, until she found a new way to surprise him.

Ulquiorra found himself unable to rest. His feet would not stay still; he paced around the palace, hands balled into fists inside his pockets. The bone white fingers clenched so tightly he lost feeling in them, but never faltered in squeezing them tighter, yearning to release whatever was unsettling his careful composure. It had been quite a few hours since the orange haired woman had been fed her dinner; by now, he assumed, she would be asleep, as there wasn't much else for her to do inside her prison walls.

As if on instinct, he turned on the balls of his feet, already heading in her direction. The walls around him stood barren, white, and alone. They were bathed in stillness; it seemed he was the only Arrancar out and about. He came to a stop outside the door he sought, fingers pounding a light knock on its surface. Continued silence met his gesture, which he took for permission to enter. Her body rested on the bed she had been given; the methodic rising and falling of her gentle breaths told him at once that she was asleep. It pleased him to know he had correctly predicted the situation, once again giving him a sense of control over her confusing behaviors. In three easy strides he was at her bedside, his eyes once again shining with the curiosity he refused to acknowledge. She was physically attractive, he supposed, in the human world; her form was slender, her skin free of blemishes. The long tresses spread out across the bedspread, burning like orange fire, hardly contained by the blue pins that held her powers.

'_What is this…?'_

Ulquiorra's thick eyebrows furrowed as he inspected the sleeping girl's face. Her eye lids seemed puffy and burned scarlet. Her cheeks were soaked in a thin stream of water; was she crying? He stared down at her in disbelief, shocked that the happy-go-lucky Inoue was capable of such a negative emotion. He had never actually seen her cry; once, she had told him during a meal, that she did feel a little lonely in Las Noches, when he wasn't with her. She had admitted that it made her sad, which was an emotion associated with the act of crying. Yet every time he had walked into that room, a smile had blossomed on her lips, without fail. How was it he had not been aware of her doldrums? There was enough room for him to sit down beside her on top of the covers; he lowered himself cautiously to avoid waking the grey eyed human. He leaned over her, bringing his head down closer, wanting to study the salty streaks left from her sorrow.

"You have no right to be happy here, woman. You are Lord Aizen's prisoner, and only have value for that reason,"

Ulquiorra murmured, although he felt a lack of pleasure in delivering the line. His displeased frown turned into an angry scowl; insulting her had become a task he no longer wished to pursue. Long ago it had stopped amusing him; when he did utter a comment on her uselessness or her pathetic friends her very essence would reflect a brokenness that shattered him to the core. He couldn't explain it; the enigma of why she had such a strong effect on him only brought him uncertainty and anger. He never should have allowed such a thing to occur, but he hadn't been aware of it until it was already too late. When Orihime Inoue wasn't smiling, he was sent into a disturbed frenzy until something was said to fix the issue.

"You cry because you are unhappy here… with me…"

Ulquiorra mused, his tone muddled with the slightest shade of misery. Had she been crying because of something he had said, or done?

"Your facial structure is like mine now,"

He added in disdain, eyeing the line of tears that mirrored the green streaks that stained his own cheeks. A flower like her should never have been brought down to this level of wilted decay; his darkness must have sucked the very life out of her, whisked the sunlight behind a curtain of night that couldn't be penetrated. He could no longer stand the unbearable sight of her wet face; his wrist hesitated before lowering until it brushed against her skin. He dabbed at her cheeks, her eyes, her nose- his movement was quick, calculated, but gentle all the same.

His hand rested but a moment there, on Orihime's face; her breath rose up and felt warm on his paled fingers. It was a surreal moment for a beast like him; his hands had been used to kill, to maim, to wipe out the existence of weaker prey. The figure below him was one of the weakest he would ever come across; taking her life would be oh so easy. With careful effort he managed to dry her face without arousing her from slumber. At last, she looked like her usual self; if not for the fact she was asleep, he could picture her lying below him with that brilliant smile breaking out, their orbs meeting in quiet contentment.

He allowed his own eyes to clamp shut, unable to look upon her features any longer. It was wrong of him to trespass upon her when she was not conscious of the encounter. Would she shrink back in fear had she known he was touching her with such gentle strokes of his bony fingers? Or would her smile brighten when he approached her? Her actions were unpredictable; it pained him to try and guess what she would say, or do. Ulquiorra stood and left as quickly as he had come, leaving no trace that he had ever been there in the first place. If he had been restless before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. He knew rest would not come until he had analyzed the situation over and over and over once more. What a puzzle that girl had proved to be…

Orihime tossed in her sleep, her dreams filled with the warm and loving caresses of a shadow she couldn't clearly see, but knew she cared deeply for all the same. She stayed that way, dreaming on, unaware of what had happened between her and her captor, though when his back had turned away he had missed the smallest of smiles that had subconsciously crept onto her lips…

**A/N: Not going to lie, I started this with the idea of just doing a drabble, you know, with only a couple hundred words or something… and it evolved into something much better, I think; or hope so anyway! But only the readers can tell me if that's true or not, so please, drop off a review before you close out of this fanfiction! I love hearing both positive and negative criticism, as long as it's helpful towards becoming a better writer!**


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